From the past was born a future using strands of thoughts inane: greying fears, transparent notions binding, merged with tangled pain. Rising then, it lurched unfettered; trod the road that lay ahead, ribbon in the darkness calling, grinding grit of words long dead. Onward to those new tomorrows scattering while on its way seeds of madness finding nurture from tears of some yesterday.

This is one of the more poisonous substances being added for commercial gain to the things we ingest. Amongst other harmful effects on the organs of the body, it destroys the neurons of the brain.

I praise the neurons of my brain
They let me feel the sun and rain
My thoughts would be unthinkable
My memories irretrievable
Without these wonders there would be
No intellect, an end of me
So any act designed to kill
By way of food or drink or pill
These jewels of Nature that I need
I class as murderous indeed
So you out there in some disguise
Who have no care for my demise
I trust one day you’ll suffer too
In punishment for things you do

Symbols, symbols, in my brain swirling round footholds to gain on the memory’s worn out slopes scarred by wishes, worries, hopes clawing to remain on high while I would have them fall and die. And there below lie quite serene the ones I need to intervene. Heading down, most times in vain, symbols, symbols, in my brain.

I’m catching my breath in this wonderful place hidden one step ahead of normal time and space. It’s a world where all’s living a warm vibrant light and there’s more than just darkness to shadows and night.

I’m filling to brimming with something unseen. It’s a force emanating from what’s in between. There is no separation except to the one born of memories gathered since time has begun.

I’m free now of wanting and dread brought by fear. It’s a sense of belonging without being here as I walk no one sees me a ghost passing by unadorned by the raiment that captures the eye.

I’m inside and outside, above and below, both behind and in front of what I’ll never know. There’s a certainty somewhere of that I am sure an eternity waiting for me to endure.

Give me your hand that I might see
I’m not alone in mystery.
Let warmth flow where now cold holds sway
in frozen wastes of yesterday.
Thoughts, layer on layer, excite, invite
show smiles and tears in that pale light
and glimpses of those times gone by
ghosts dancing for the inner eye.
Grasp now my hand as tight as can
so I can feel when now began.

Strange things happen to old-timers – not the automobile variety but the human male one. Such as peeing in two directions at once, a renewed interest in attractive young women, and suddenly finding old tunes and other memories, that prove surprisingly resistant to aging, rising up from the cellar of youth to haunt again. I assume I’m not the only one afflicted by the latter. Well, I think not.
It’s as if the body is saying to the brain, ‘Look, I’ve got an awful lot of old memories stashed away down here and there’s hardly any room for anything new, so I’m throwing this one up there again for you to decide if it’s worth keeping.’ Read more, also World Political news

Once I was so small and now I am quite tall
but from seed to a tree is no great jump you see.
To the eye there above that may look down with love
that sees galaxies merge and new stars then emerge
I am tall but still small, not important at all.

My mind expands into the cloud
of thoughts that sculpture what’s allowed
that show my own reality
the realm that only I can see.
Though many visions we may share
a loneliness I still must bear.

Oh to see through heaven’s eyes
behind the mask, subtle disguise
feel movement of a distant star
touch all now whether near or far.
To be what I was meant to be
no outcast of eternity.